"Here," a soft, quiet voice states making Anastasia flinch as she turns around; her eyes falling onto Jasper before dropping to the glass of water in his hands. "Naproxen," he comments while nodding at the pain meds laying on the table.

"Why are you still here?" she asks him, ignoring the glass he holds out for her as she takes a pill. "I was worried," he admits, holding the glass a little closer to her. "No need for that," she replies simply.

Anastasia's voice has its indifferent edge back to it, her words are not whispered anymore and no tremble can be heard.

"Yes, there is," Jasper counters. "There really isn't. Not for you."

He can't deny that her words hurt for he wants nothing more than to care for her. And worrying is a part of it, a part he won't ever manage to put to rest. A part he doesn't want to put to rest.

Jasper will always worry for her, whether she likes it or not. Whether he likes it or not. But he most certainly won't complain because worrying means caring. As long as he is concerned he is holding her dear.

"You won't be getting rid of me any time soon," is Jasper's short reply, nudging the glass of water another tad closer. "Now, drink."

Staring at him for another second, her eyes narrow but she takes the glass nonetheless.

"How's your leg?" he questions her, able to feel her pain but still needing her to know he's here to listen if she ever decides to open up.

"How's Antonina?" she shoots back, ignoring his question while sitting down on one of the chairs. The one furthest away from whatever happened in this room.

"She's alright. Attached to Emmett," he replies. "Does she sleep?" Anastasia glances up at him. And for the first time, Jasper can decipher worry on her own features. She cares for her sister in a way she does not even care for herself. She cares more than she was able to bear.

"As far as I know. But only with him in the room," he nods. "Good. That's good."

"I asked Carlisle to stop by later. Do you want him to bring her?" Jasper offers her. "No," she shakes her head at that.

She couldn't stand seeing her sister right now. Too much guilt for sending her away, more guilt for letting her stay that long and the deepest guilt for killing her father.

Yes, he was no good man but even he had his moments. Moments in which he would make breakfast for her, moments in which he taught her how to ride a bike, moments in which he painted the streets with chalk just to have it wiped away by the next rain.

There were moments he was a good father to Antonina, more moments Anastasia allowed herself to see. And she fears those are the only moments Antonina will remember, she fears her sister will hate her for killing her father.

"You should get some breakfast," Jasper once again changes the subject, walking over to the kitchen counter. "Toast or cereal?" he turns to look at her, waiting for her answer.

Her eyes meet is, the uncertainty clear to be seen in them. She doesn't trust him and he doesn't blame her, he has not yet given her a reason to trust him. But he will, he will do everything in his power to help her learn to trust him.

"Toast," she eventually does answer, watching him closely as he rummages through the kitchen up until he has found what he was searching for. "What do you want with it?" he turns to the fridge. "Butter is fine."

Anastasia is no person to eat breakfast, not unless she did it with Antonina on the weekends. She just doesn't understand how some can eat a full meal in the morning, she barely manages to eat a toast.

The two of them keeps silent as she does eat her toast, Jasper's eyes are on her, dropping right next to her plate to not make her feel all too uncomfortable.

"Why are you doing this?" she close to snaps once she has finished. "What am I doing?" he raises a brow at her, leaning back in his own chair.

"This... treating my leg, making breakfast... why are you doing it?" Anastasia glances around herself, her eyes lingering on the trashcan where her bloody shirt should still be in. "Do you want me to stop?" Jasper retorts with a raised brow.

No.

"Yes." Letting his lips curl into a smile at her answer, he shakes his head lightly. "I won't. You need someone to worry about you, care for you. And unless you can't tell me anyone else in this town that does, I won't stop," Jasper means.

"Goodbye boundaries," Anastasia scoffs while rolling her eyes. It's not like his words are wrong, this town is no fan of her.

"I brought books," he chooses to overhear what she just said, nodding at the small pile on the counter behind her. Yeah, she noticed them; she kind of thought she brought them her during the hours after her father's... death.

"Room on the roof. Thought you might like it," Jasper points out as he hands her the one on the top, taking another one for himself, he sits back down in the chair, skips to the first chapter and starts reading.

Trusting Anastasia to do so as well and eventually, she does. The two of them now reading in silence.